


Final Assessment Report: Victor Zsasz

by Legs (InsanityRule)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Disordered Eating, Gen, Mental Illness, Off-screen Character Death, incredibly brief undescribed on screen character death of an unnamed character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 07:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8789506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsanityRule/pseuds/Legs
Summary: Goal: To observe Victor Zsasz during one cycle, where cycle is defined as the moment he wakes to the moment he goes to sleep, and determine whether or not remaining under his leadership is beneficial or a hindrance.





	

Day One

Initial observation: He’s awake.

Current activity: Eating a breakfast of eggs, toast, bacon, orange juice, and three cups of coffee as of seven o’clock. He’s also doing a word find in the paper.

Physical state: Well. No visible injuries or causes for concern. Movement is sluggish but unlabored.

Assessment: He is groggy from sleeping upwards of 20 hours straight.

Recourse: “You slept too long.”

“I slept until I woke up. That’s what we agreed.”

Additional observation: He’s unconcerned and stubborn.

Assessment: A false comfort from routine makes him believe this amount of sleep is not cause for concern.

Recourse: Attempt to increase the number of consecutive nights he sleeps to two in order to reduce sleep hours. Or, reduce the number of nights in between the nights he does sleep.

Amendment: Four cups of coffee.

“We have a busy week this week.” He’s pleased. Busy means work, which means money, but it also means another tally or two to join the others if things go his way.

“Who.”

“Our good friend Mr. Cobblepot has a couple jobs for us.” He slides over the newspaper. He’s been writing job information in the blanks of a crossword. “Two of his associates aren’t paying their dues.” He points to one across. “And our new guns are in for a trial.” Three across.

Two jobs and an afternoon at the gun range. Not exactly an overwhelming schedule.

“What else?”

“After breakfast.” He drains his mug of coffee, and pours another. Five cups.

-

Two exits, multiple full sized windows, metal bar top seats, and the glasses are actual glass. She prefers this diner. There are plenty of last resort weapons in plain sight.

Assessment: He’s impatient, and glaring into his empty mug. Seven cups.

“The service here is terrible.” He stands from the corner of the booth, climbs over the table and stomps across the tile floor to the counter. “Hello?”

Observations: The rest of the table does not react. The remainder of the diner is deserted. Both employees bolted immediately once all their mugs were filled.

“Someone’s going to get a bad review.” Zsasz hops over the counter and begins digging around in the cupboards. “Coffee?” He points to everyone. A few heads nod. “Gang?”

“Tea.” Chilled. With lemon one spoon of sugar and no ice. He already knows that.

He turns on the radio, something upbeat. Unpleasant, but not intolerable.

Additional assessment: He appears to be collecting food on the counter with the purpose of making more food.

Observations: Eggs, bread, cinnamon, cream, maple syrup. He’s also warming up the griddle behind the counter. It wasn’t off for long, because the butter he’s placed there is melting fast.

Conclusion: French toast.

Recourse: None. She hasn’t eaten, and he’s going to make more food regardless of anyone’s protest.

Current activity: preparing the soak for the french toast. Warming the griddle. Dumping some hash browns on the warmed surface. Smiling.

Physical state: Energized. Upbeat. Possibly excited or possibly overcaffeinated.

Recourse: None. Caffeine wears off, so do good moods. Things will work themselves out.

Notation: It’s possible there's no other job for the week, excluding the visits to collect payments, and he was just hungry.

Calculations, brief: 20 hours sleeping, plus the two days prior without sleep, without food excluding more coffee and energy drinks, equals about 60 hours without actual food. Excluding one bag of peanuts midway through his waking period, for energy.

Recourse: She gets up and retrieves a package of bacon out of the fridge, and a gallon of milk, more juice, a fresh loaf of bread for just toast and jam, and some premixed batter for pancakes.

“Make this.”

He gestures to the griddle and she pours out some pancakes.

-

Condensed notes, Day 1: Following breakfast Zsasz brought them to Cobblepot, who briefed them on their jobs. Following this, he brought them to lunch, where he ate more pancakes and eggs, plus biscuits and gravy.

Noteworthy: ten cups.

Hypothesis: He’s begun increasing his caffeine intake in an attempt to maintain a higher energy level through the next few days. Possible side effects are numerous, and close observation is necessary moving forward.

Recourse: Check his heart rate. Look out for anxiety or shaking. Possibly, isolate him until effects lessen.

Preventative actions: Replace any caffeine rich supplies with water. Avoid careless mistakes that may lead to injury or excessive exertion. Shove food in his face to soak up the coffee.

Last resort: Sedation. He’ll hate it, always does. Still, it’s an option.

Not acting period, never an option. He’s still human. At some point, he’ll reach his limit.

Observations, current: He’s sitting, eating an omelet and hash browns, jittering.

Physical state: Not ideal. He’s shaking, bouncing his leg. His heart rate is high.

Recourse: “You overdid it.”

No response. He’s non-verbal, or refusing to answer. Not one of his better moments.

“Small time dodger tomorrow.” He nods. “Plan?”

“Tonight.”

Conclusion: He’s going to stay up all night planning their confrontation. Possibly, he’ll intermix some workouts or target practice between planning sessions.

Recourse: She gives him a bottle of water, some peanuts and popcorn to soak up any remaining caffeine. She also takes the coffee pot out of the kitchen and hides it upstairs in the storage room.

Observation, faint, muted from the distance: “Cash pews.” or possibly she misheard.

She returns to the dining room. The peanuts are untouched, but the popcorn is already half gone.

“I hate peanuts.”

-

Day 2

Initial observation: he’s still in the kitchen. The table is covered with wrappers from snack food. The cashews container is on its side. A newspaper is covered with writing.

Current activity: Nothing. His head droops slightly. Eyes closing, then popping open.

Physical state: Unclear. Tired, obviously, but possibly from boredom. He cracks his neck when he notices her. His movements are a bit jerky, but not labored.

He’s going to refuse to sleep tonight.

Assessment: He’s going to need some caffeine. Also, important, soon he’ll cycle through the circadian rhythm and energy levels will rise. It’s important to administer caffeine during the peak.

“Espresso or Monster.”

“Mix them.”

Assessment, not terribly surprising: He’s going to end up killing himself if he keeps doing this.

“Plan.”

“Done.”

She slides the newspaper closer and skims the scattered plan. Hidden team members. His favorite pistols. A few notes on the owner of the bar they’re going to today. It’s all simple, all things she knew yesterday. He’s done most of the planning in his head.

“Tell me.”

“No need.” He stands. Stretches. “I’m soloing this one.”

She points to the note about his secret backup. “Who?”

“Who else?”

Herself, possibly Tawney. Good.

Assessment: he’s at the ideal energy level now. Getting him his “drink” now is important to avoid any minor catastrophes during the day.

Sleep can wait for a week where there aren’t any jobs to complete.

-

Observations: None.

Assessment: The back alley is dull, and she won’t bother to register any of her surroundings unless someone tries to bolt out the back door.

Current activity: Zsasz is inside collecting the payment, or killing the owner. Silence is not a good indicator of his current state.

Additional notes: Tawney is equally as bored. No other crewmembers are on this job.

Notable: He drank the concoction he requested earlier, and his energy levels are normal.

A concern, possibly for later, he hasn’t eaten. It’s noon, a little after.

Recourse: Attempt to trick him into eating while they’re driving to the gun range. Possibly, offer it during weapon testing.

Remember, no peanuts.

The back door opens. He’s smiling, slinging a bag around. “Easy as pie girls.”

He hands the money to Tawney.

“Bonus, we’re right by the range.” And he’s going to insist they walk.

She watches, silent, not opposed enough to protest. He hands over the money and gestures towards the sidewalk. It’s Tawney’s turn to bring the money to Cobblepot. She would be jealous, but time in the range is preferable to dealing with employers.

Observations: He has a bounce to his step. He’s energized. His energy is at its peak for the day.

Conclusion: It’s going to go downhill from this point on.

Recourse: None. He’ll enjoy the range. He’ll maybe eat something if she offers. He’ll possibly fall asleep at home or in the car later. More likely than not, he’ll sleep after their job tomorrow.

Worst case scenario, he falls asleep, and refuses to wake until after their job should have already been completed.

She steps in the footprints he makes in the snow. Watching him, and watching the people around them. So far, no cause for concern. It’s mostly deserted, and the gun range is only two more blocks away.

Soon, she’ll get to try out the new gun. Afterwards, they’ll just have to see.

-

“Head.” Gunshot.

“Heart.” Gunshot.

“Lung.” Gunshot.

“Liver.” Gunshot. She glances left. “You missed.”

Observation: Zsasz’ lip is curling. He removes the blindfold, the noise cancelling headphones. If she wasn’t correct, he would probably be more angry. He might even push her off the counter, if he’s pissy enough.

He looks at the plywood cutout of a person. “It’s close enough. I definitely hit it.”

She looks left again. It’s dead center, right at the diaphragm. “That’s the spine. The main veins are off centered.”

He pouts, and fires while staring at her. She blinks, he motions towards the cutout. She looks, leans against the partition, and nods. “Better.”

Observation, additional: He fired that shot with his headphones off. Hers are still on, and the shot was still loud.

Conclusion: He’s going to end up going deaf if he keeps using guns.

Recourse: It’s not her hearing. He can always get hearing aids.

He opens a case. Pulls out a bulky pistol. “Time to test out our new toy.”

The new gun is clunky, and relatively quiet. Internal silencer, the rep said, claimed it’s top of the line. It’s a prototype, and she has a few qualms about the firing mechanism. It’s cobbled together, not clean and sleek like their usual pistols.

Hypothesis: Zsasz will get frustrated almost immediately and go back to his standard guns. Then, they’ll spend half the day here.

She’s had worse afternoons.

Noteworthy: This is a common occurrence, spending free time shooting at things. It’s a perk.

Observations, gun only: The trigger sticks. The “silencer” only muffles some noise. It feels awkward in her hands.

Conclusion, gun only: She wouldn’t waste her time on it. Zsasz appears to agree. He’s already put it away.

“Your turn.” He hands over the blindfold. “And we’re not doing any easy organs this time.”

Spleen. Appendix. Possibly gall bladder. She’s well versed in anatomy.

When she wins, she’ll pick dinner. And maybe he’ll eat, maybe not. At worst, he’ll have more coffee.

She waits. He tells her “coccyx”, sounding cocky. She lowers the gun and fires.

-

Day 3

Observations, belated: He’s not wearing his thicker jacket. If he had been, it’s possible the bullet would have been redirected. Also, he didn’t sleep again. Barely ate. They weren’t going into the job without some handicaps on their side.

Observations, current: He’s breathing through his nose, harsh and fast. The wound, right shoulder, small, through and through, is bleeding. Pressure reduces this bleeding, as does keeping it elevated.

Noteworthy: He’s letting her slow the bleeding. Earlier, he’d been quiet. Jittery. His pinky twitches when he’s getting past the point of no return. She thought she saw it twitch once.

Conclusion: He could be worse. But he should have slept before this job. Even a little, even if their timeline got fucked because of it.

Conclusions, additional: Tawney should be driving faster. He’s not fatally wounded, but blood loss is blood loss.

Also, he’s incredibly tense.

Recourse: She gets his attention, stares him down.

He’s breathing is too shallow. Face taut. He’s holding it in.

“Express it.”

He stares at her. Manages one deep breath, and screams.

Wordless, pained, angry. He’s furious. He takes getting injured so personally.

But he’s breathing now. “Good. How long?”

“We’re about three minutes out.”

“That was planned.” He’s huffing, angry.

Hypothesis: He thinks it was a trap. That they didn’t pay on purpose, and knew Zsasz would be there.

Conclusion: He’s probably right.

She glances at Tawney. Tawney looks in the rear view mirror. They nod.

“Yes.”

Zsasz breathes through his nose. In. Out. Inoutinout- “Who?”

Noteable: If Tawney is bluffing they’re going to lose a valuable asset.

Unimportant. Better to lose many than let a traitor remain.

“Gilzean.”

Tawney adds important data, “for Babs. They’re poaching.”

Observations, hindsight: It was not the best time to reveal this to Zsasz. He’s injured, and in pain, and angry.

Assessment: He’ll end up hurting himself when he tries to handle the problem on his own.

Recourse: Potentially, take out the problem, but Gilzean is not easy to locate these days. Babs keeps a close eye on her assets.

Notable: He’s not breathing much again.

She presses harder on his arm. He grunts, but breathes. “How many?”

“Several.”

“Too many.”

“Find them.” He looks at her, then Tawney. “Cull them.”

Assessment: This is unexpected.

Conclusion: He, for whatever reason, trusts that they’re still on his side. He  _ trusts _ them. Doing so could have gotten him killed if he was wrong.

Recourse: Don’t break that. It is hard earned, and very rare.

Fin conclusion: She would rather stay with Zsasz’ crew than attempt to leave in order to join something foreign. This is comfortable, and predictable despite any evidence to the contrary. Even Zsasz has patterns.

Additional, important: Cut all possible points of contact with Gilzean regarding potential defection from Zsasz’ crew. If possible, discern his location. Minimum, ensure Cobblepot is alerted, and remove all defecting members.

Presently, get Zsasz inside. Allow the “doctor” to fix up his arm. Following this, get Zsasz to sleep properly.

Tawney brings him inside. He’s looking faint, a bit wobbly. He’ll need food and water.

She gets out her phone, makes a delivery call. They’ll be here long enough for some Chinese food to arrive.

Then she calls Gilzean.

“Hello?”

“Talk.”

“This is one of Zsasz’ girls right?” She turns on speaker and sets the phone on the ground. “Listen, we’re really excited to hear what your thoughts are-”

She shoots the phone.

Tawney joins her.

“He’ll live.”

“Good.”

She looks at the phone. “Gilzean right?”

“Call.”

Tawney does. Taps the speaker button. Holds it out. “Hello? Hello?”

“You called about Zsasz.”

“Oh great, another one. Listen, if you’re not interested just  _ say  _ so.” She sets it down. Nods. “I’m not going to lose my hear-”

She shoots it.

-

Day 4

Explanation, brief: It’s only technically day 4, because it’s past midnight.

He’s refusing to sleep. Pouting at the sling on his right arm. Quietly drinking the water and popcorn she provided.

Assessment: If she doesn’t intervene he’ll stay awake again.

Recourse: “You’re tired.”

“No.”

She knew that wouldn’t work. But she tried anyway.

“How many people tried to defect?”

“Several.” Tawney is still combing through the crew members. Gang drew the short straw and got Zsasz duty. “Too many.”

“It’s probably because she’s offering to pay more.”

Or because he’s been a wreck.

Assessment, definitely not new: He needs to be worn down. To sleep. To eat normally. He needs to put the same care he puts into jobs towards himself if he wants to keep his body going.

Recourse, also not new: “Bedroom.”

He stares her down. Blinks. She blinks back. He gets up from the table.

-

Observations: He’s flushed. Relaxed, bone deep. Breathing fast. Eyes closed.

Additional: “You were fast.”

He laughs. “Maybe you’re just that good.”

A single laugh, a huff. She gathers up their supplies. “Shower.”

He doesn’t answer.

Observations, post sex: He’s beginning to fall asleep already. Briefly, he gestures to the television, the only thing on the far wall.

She tosses everything by the door. Mentally agrees to get him a controller. Goes so far as to turn on the video streaming service. “Most people play on these.”

“Not my style. Also not my purchase.”

She remembers. A hand-me-down from Nygma, or possibly Cobblepot getting sick of its presence in his home.

He turns on The General. Tosses the remote on the one bed side table. He settles.

Conclusion: Sex continues to be the best way to tire him out, with added benefits for herself or others.

“Culling will be complete before you wake up.” He nods. It’s not a concern for him right now.

She gets her things and shuts the door.

-

He’s angry.

Specifically, Oswald Cobblepot is angry. Or pissed. His anger always seems pissy.

She watches him, bored, as he tries to stare down Zsasz.

“I  _ appreciate _ that you’ve been so prompt, don’t think I don’t notice when my people have pride in their industry, but why, when I ask you for an update to your crew roster, are you telling me that you currently have half, no, a  _ third  _ of the people you used to have? Enlighten me, please.”

“Gilzean.” Zsasz says only that. He gestures to Tawney, the rest of the crew remaining, and Gang.

“You can’t think that that means anything to me. What? Did he kill your men? Should I be afraid of an assault? Fill me in, please Victor, and I’ll see what I can do, but don’t leave me out of the loop.”

Observations: He’s awfully pushy.

“He wanted to poach my crew.”

“Of course he did.”

Tawney fires off a round in the background. Oswald is the only one to flinch. She doesn’t bother to turn when there’s a thud. Clearly, Tawney found another, and the roster needs updated.

Cobblepot sputters.

“We had to clear out the bad eggs boss.”

“Please, no need to explain. I can appreciate that your needs are rather specific, and if you deemed this necessary, then by all means, kill over half of your men. Just give me a little  _ warning _ next time, so I can plan around this little speed bump.”

Zsasz nods. Walks over to Tawney. Cobblepot approaches before she can escape. He smiles. “Hello, I don’t think we’ve actually met.”

She says nothing.

“Right, ignoring the fact that you’ve never spoken a word to me, I want your input. But first, let me first thank you for your loyalty. I know how difficult it can be to find trustworthy crew members.”

She wishes she could leave right now.

“So help me help you. I’m more than willing to dedicate some time and energy, and funds of course, to helping get the Zsasz crew back to its former glory. Now, tell me, what makes a good crew member, no, what makes  _ you  _ a good crew member? Don’t be afraid to brag. You’re clearly doing something right.”

“I’m very skilled at pegging.”

Observations, satisfying: He’s confused, then horrified. Disgusted, maybe. Definitely did not want to know that information.

Recourse: None. He’ll leave on his own now.

“Right. Seeing as I am a busy man.” He pauses. Offers her a tight smile. She doesn’t return it. Instead she glances at Zsasz, raises one eyebrow at Cobblepot. He blanches. “I must be going.”

**Author's Note:**

> The General is a silent movie from 1926 by Buster Keaton.


End file.
